A Chance Encounter
by Prufrock Sheldon II
Summary: Gregory Edgeworth, fresh out of law school, moves to Los Angeles in hopes of finding an internship, but things aren't quite going his way.  What happens when he meets an intriguing girl at a coffee shop? Gregory x the future Mrs. Edgeworth.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Basically, this is the story I've envisioned for how Miles's parents meet. I know I have so many unfinished stories, but I just like to put new ideas out. OTL.**

**So...I suppose this is Gregory Edgeworth x OC. Wow. I never thought I'd see the day where I'd make an OC for Ace Attorney.**

**P.S. Question for the readers at the end! :)**

* * *

"Excuse me…may I take this seat?" I could hardly believe the words coming out of my mouth. There I was, in a crowded coffee shop, asking a young lady if I could sit at her table. Normally, I wouldn't dare to disrupt anyone, but I was having a particularly bad day, so perhaps I was a tad more lax than usual. That, and all tables were occupied by one or more people.

The young lady nodded without a word, keeping her eyes glued to the rather thick novel she was hunched over, occasionally fingering one of her loose sheets of paper with some sort of typed writing on them. I sat down. Though the coffee shop was buzzing with people's excited chatter, I couldn't help but feel that there was a rather awkward silence at this table. I ventured a question, "What are you reading?"

At first, she made no reaction to my question, but as she fingered the final page, her eyes pouring over the final passage, she slammed it shut quite abruptly. She looked up at me, her eyes meeting mine. I could feel my face growing red. She had a pointed face, her features proud and regal, framed by sharply cut hair that fell just above her shoulders, parted bangs that fell just slightly over her large, serious eyes. It had an oddly charming effect, I noted. But suddenly, I felt as though I had trespassed on a kingdom's territory, interrupting her train of thought. "Um…sorry, I-" I stumbled over my apologies.

"_Gone With the Wind_."

"…Pardon?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly, as though she was upset over having to speak with me. "That _is_ what you asked, isn't it?" she asked impatiently. She flicked her bangs out of her eyes. "I was reading _Gone With the Wind_."

"Ah…" I smiled weakly, not quite sure how to respond to her irritability. "Margaret …Marbury, right?"

She glared at me, as though my incorrect answer truly offended her. "It's Margaret _Mitchell_," she responded, as a busy parent would to a child.

"I see…" I mused, almost just to myself, ignoring her tone. I was more captivated by the way in which she spoke; her low, serious voice, that seemed so arrogant. But perhaps rightly so. "I haven't read it; I'm afraid I was never that interested in that one. I'm more of a Kurt Vonnegut fan, myself."

For an instant, I thought I saw a flicker of surprise and delight in her large eyes; whether or not it was real, it was quickly replaced by her former look of cool arrogance. "So am I, however…" She eyed the book in front of her with disgust. "This was a requirement for one of my classes."

"Oh…you're a student?"

"Yes. At Ivy University."

"I see…" I turned my head down, away from this girl, smiling abashedly. For some reason, my heart sank. I didn't understand why. After all, it wasn't as though I was looking to pursue a relationship with this young woman—girl—whom I had just met. Besides, now that I did know, she was still in college, so she probably wouldn't be interested someone such as myself. I had been out of law school for several months, and I was looking for work. However, thus far, I had only managed to muck up my chances of an internship.

"…Your accent…a hint of Oxford, is it not?"

I looked up at her, mildly taken aback. "Ah…y-yes, it is." People rarely noticed my accent, as my life has always been rather balanced between the United States and my home in the United Kingdom.

"Did you study abroad?"

The sudden questions were surprising. "I did." I paused to take a sip of my tea. "I went to Cambridge." Though I didn't mean for it to sound like bragging, I couldn't help but feel that it sounded like it.

"Really?" she asked; her voice now sounded earnestly intrigued. "So…you've spent much time abroad?"

"Ah, yes, I suppose I have…" I wasn't quite sure how to respond. "I grew up there, so it wasn't anything special, really."

"Oh." And she was silent again. But for that one moment, I saw a deeper layer to this girl—a younger, more excited level. Her eyes had lit up at the prospect of another country, somewhere new. Or maybe it was just the satisfaction of her correct deduction. Regardless, I wanted to see it again. Perhaps I was reading too much into it…but it's not as though I had much better to do. It was rare to find college students that were so intriguing.

"So…" I said, in the most casual voice I could muster. "Are you interested in traveling for your education?"

She turned away, her cheeks tinged with a slight pink; she must have realized that her cool composure had slipped. "…Yes, I was considering it." Slowly turning her head toward me, but not her eyes, she continued, "But I'm graduating this year, so I doubt it would be of any use to me now."

"Really? Have you thought about secondary school?" I leaned forward, resting my cheek on my hand. "I actually was here in the States for my undergraduate, but I went back to the UK for my Law degree."

At the mentioning of a Law degree, her eyebrow arched considerably. "…You're a lawyer?"

"W-well, not yet," I responded timidly, recalling the failed job interview I had just returned from. "I'm trying to find an internship, at the moment."

"…I see."

And again with the silence.

No matter how foolish I might have seemed, I wasn't willing to let this girl slip away. For some strange reason, I had an impulse to get to know her. "…Um…you said you were a Kurt Vonnegut fan?"

Her eyes lit up once again, just for a fleeting instant. With her composed expression, she responded, "Yes. I've enjoyed several of his works."

I leaned back in my seat. "Do you read a lot?"

"…Yes," her eyes met mine again. "I'm an English literature major."

"Ah…" I didn't know what else to say. Why did I have to be so socially inept? I cursed my idiocy.

Setting her book aside, she appeared to study my face. I tried to relax, but there was something about her stare—or perhaps it was a glare?—that unnerved me. "So, Mr…?" she trailed off.

"Erm…Edgeworth," I said, trying to avert my eyes. "Gregory Edgeworth."

"Edgeworth…" she repeated, almost to herself. Then, snapping out of a transient contemplation, she turned back to me, and continued, "What sort of lawyer are you, Mr. Edgeworth?"

I wanted to say, "Please, call me Gregory," but instead, I merely said, "Ah…I'm training to be a defense attorney."

"Criminal law?"

"Yes."

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. Her head was turned slightly up, as though she was looking down at me. "If I may say it frankly, you allow criminals to go free?"

"W-well, that's not exactly…er…" I tugged nervously on my collar. "Technically speaking, I don't do anything, yet. But," I continued, sounding a bit more comfortable, "I hope that I'll have the wisdom to choose the right clients."

She raised an eyebrow skeptically. "The 'right' clients?"

"Yes, so...You see…" I paused, trying to find the right words. Finally, when I had collected my thoughts, I replied, "I became a defense attorney to help. To give a voice to those who cannot speak." I leaned forward, folding my fingers together. "To help the weak and to protect the innocent. I would never try to save someone that I knew was a criminal." I stopped, realizing how much I had divulged to this…stranger. "Er…sorry, I was rambling…" I mumbled.

"Don't apologize."

"Hm?"

She stared at me icily. "Never apologize. It's a sign of weakness."

Before I had time to respond, she glanced up at the clock that was set upon the wall of the shop. She began to pack up her book and papers. Just as she turned to leave, she gave me one last glance, nodded curtly, and walked out the door.

All I could do was watch her in silence as she left. As soon as the door closed behind her, I leaned back in my seat, only one thought stuck in my head. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!" I folded my arms and stared at the seat where this girl had sat just moments before. "Stupid!" I acted so idiotically. "Stupid!" I didn't even get her name. "Stupid!" The thought of a relationship with her had _even crossed my mind._

...Why did I have to be so stupid?

* * *

**A/N: Alright. So here's where I explain my thinking. Gregory always seemed like a bright, cheery guy. So where did Edgeworth get his stubbornness and cold disposition from? My guessing is his mother.**

**QUESTION: I NEED NAME SUGGESTIONS FOR THIS WOMAN. The ones I thought of were Sarah, Michelle, and Cassandra, but I'd love more suggestions of what YOU think Miles's mom's name is (or opinions on the ones I was thinking about. I shan't be offended if you don't like them, I just chose them on a fancy).**

**Thanks for reading! I promise to work on this a bit more frequently! :)**

**((PS. Brownie points to anyone who got the reference when she says "Never apologize. It's a sign of weakness". Hint: It's from a wonderful TV show...))**


	2. Chapter 2

For the next two weeks, I visited that coffee shop every day. At first, I would go inside, order my tea, as usual, and sit for an hour or so, waiting. I don't know what exactly I was waiting for; perhaps it was just a foolish whim to see her again. But as the days dragged on, I would stare out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of that nameless girl once more.

It wasn't until the fourteenth day that I actually saw her inside. She appeared to be just placing her order, so I quickly entered the shop.

"Oh, hello, there!" I said brightly, stepping beside her. But then, realizing that I was a bit too close, I stepped back. It's not right for a gentleman to seem so eager, right? Besides, what was to say that she would even remember me?

She stared back at me, her expression unchanging. "…Hello, Mr. Edgeworth."

"Ha, so you _do _remember me…" I responded, hopefully with less cheer than I actually felt internally. "How are you today?"

"Um…are you gonna pay now?" The sulking teenager at the cash register stared at us, hunched over, tapping his finger on the register impatiently. Pulling her wallet from her bag, she replied, "Yes, of course," in the same cool tone. But before she paid, I stopped her. "Please," I said, smiling. "I won't make a lady pay." I turned to the teenager. "May I also add one small herbal tea to that order?"

"Yeah. Your total is $7.76."

I handed the money over, let him keep the change, and walked her to a table. I pulled out a chair for her. She gave me an odd look before sitting.

"Mr. Edgeworth," she said, her voice calm and contemplative. "I'm not entirely comfortable with having you pay for my coffee."

"O-oh…" It never even occurred to me that it could be awkward. "I apologize. Out of habit, you know…"

The same teenager at the counter brought over our drinks silently. My seated companion ignored him and continued to study me, raising an eyebrow. "Is your memory really so short that you do not recall what I said to you last time we spoke?" she asked, her voice short and clipped. "Never apologize."

"Right, I'm so-…er…Right." I felt like an idiot. It was a bizarre experience, being lectured by a woman perhaps three years younger than me.

Then, she reached into her bag. "While you are here, would you be willing to look over this paper for me, Mr. Edgeworth?" she asked, her tone suddenly changing to a youthful, innocuous one. She set a small packet of papers on the table, neatly stapled in the upper left-hand corner. "Since you're probably _much more well-versed_ than I, I was hoping that I could get an opinion on this."

"O-of course…" I took the paper. It appeared to be six pages long. Single spaced. Before beginning to read, I noticed the name in the upper left-hand corner. _Olivia Athens._ "…Olivia?" _So that's what her name is_, I thought.

She looked up abruptly, almost glaring at me. "Sor- er… I mean, Ms. Athens," I remedied my statement. I fell silent and began to read the paper.

I sorely regretted it.

The paper was full of a surprising amount of errors, from typos to thematic inconsistencies to a lack of focus; I could hardly believe that someone as seemingly intelligent as this young lady, Olivia, could have written something like this. Using a pen that she had given me, I jotted down a few notes, marked things I thought should have been changed, and handed it back to her. I offered a weak smile, though all the while, I couldn't help but wonder why her paper was so awful.

Olivia took the paper, grasping it with her long, tapered fingers. She looked at me. "Well?"

"Er…well…" I hesitated, not knowing whether or not to tell her what I truly thought of the paper. However, I decided that it would be disrespectful to dumb down my editing for her. So I told her. I pointed out all of the errors, the heinous mistakes. Typically, I would have expected someone of her intelligence (or so I believed) to be offended by criticism, so I braced myself for a frown, and perhaps some defensive arguments. However, I got the opposite reaction.

She smirked at me. "I'm impressed, Mr. Edgeworth," Olivia said, reaching onto her bag once more. She pulled out another set of papers. I glanced at the title; it was exactly the same as the first paper I read, but as I scanned through the essay, I noticed it was much more well written and smooth. My face fell. "…No…"

Stuffing the edited paper into her bag, she continued to smile; it was rather unnerving. "Yes, Mr. Edgeworth. You see, I'm not actually an English major." She shifted the paper toward herself. "I'm a Psychology major. This was an experiment to see how honest you would be in such a situation." She beamed in the face of her own accomplishments. "And quite frankly, it was perfectly executed."

I rested my head on my hand and sighed. She was awfully lucky I was rather mellow, or I might have been upset. "Hasn't anyone ever told you it's rude to trick people?" I asked her with a faint smile.

"Hm?" Olivia's eyes widened, as though she suddenly realized the possible consequences of such actions. "O-oh…I…I suppose so. However," she continued, raising her chin ever so slightly, "I would say it was still effective. I don't want to waste my time talking to someone who will just mock my intelligence by lying to my face."

_Brilliant. She is…absolutely brilliant._ Again, I couldn't keep myself from being fascinated by her. "It's rather impressive that you'd prefer honesty than flattery," I said with a (hopefully) reassuring smile.

She returned my smile this time, wholly and honestly. "I know." As another awkward silence followed her words, thoughts swarm around my head. _I know I must be a few years older than her…but is it really so wrong to be so attracted to her? I-intellectually attracted, of course. No, it can't be. It's perfectly normal to wish to discuss ideas with other people. ...Right?_

"Mr. Edgeworth?" Olivia stared intently at me. I was suddenly feeling very self-conscious. "Y-yes?"

She rested her elbows on the table and intertwined her fingers, studying me over the top of her hands. "The last time we met, you told me that you are a defense attorney. Er…how has that been going?"

I resisted a chuckle. Her inflections and wording were somewhat awkward, as though she wasn't used to making small talk. "Well, it's a long story-" I began, but I was suddenly cut off by a wailing child. I turned around. As I had been enraptured by Olivia, the coffee shop had been filling up with people, among them a mother with a noisy child, and others who were speaking animatedly with one another. Olivia looked at the child with some disdain. "Shall we go elsewhere to talk?" she inquired; I nodded, and we left.

-.-.-

The local park was also full of people, but their voices were scattered in the early spring air, so Olivia and I could hear one another. "Please, continue, Mr. Edgeworth," she said, her hands in her coat pockets.

"Ah, well," I mimicked her actions, placing my hands in my pockets. "It's not really that interesting, but I haven't _quite_ been able to begin my work yet."

"Why?"

"I…managed to do rather poorly in my first interview," I admitted. "It must seem pretty foolish to someone so-"

"'Someone so' _what_?" she asked sharply.

_Oh, fantastic, Gregory_, I thought, surpressing the urge to hit myself for letting that slip. "Wh-what I _mean_ is…someone as intelligent as yourself, Ms. Athens."

In retrospect, this was the most idiotic thing I had done thus far in my encounters with her. For the first time, I saw a truly upset expression on her face. "I-I'm sorry if that was out of line!" I said quickly, hoping that I wouldn't make her run away. "Please, I just…"

"No!" she snapped. "I'm not upset with what you've said about me. After all," she closed her eyes thoughtfully. "It's true; I know that I am intelligent. However, I do not appreciate that you believe that your circumstances would make you appear foolish in my eyes."

"…I beg your pardon?"

Her eyebrows furrowed, she stopped walking momentarily. I stopped as well. We looked at each other. "Do you really think I am so shallow, Mr. Edgeworth," she said icily, "to think less of you simply because you failed one interview?"

"W-well," I stuttered, not entirely sure what to make of the situation. "I-I just…didn't think you would want to spend time with someone who is such a…well, _loser_, as most people would say."

Her gaze intensified. "I am not most people, Mr. Edgeworth."

"…You're right." I smiled weakly. "You most certainly aren't, Ms. Athens." Turning my head, I began to walk slowly. Olivia caught up beside me. "Well?" she asked impatiently.

Now it was my turn to be puzzled. "'Well' what?"

"Are you just going to admit defeat like that?"

"You say that as if it's like a game," I noted with a small grin.

Looking down at the ground, Olivia's face had turned pink again. "Well, _yes_, I suppose." She lifted her head suddenly and looked at me again. "But still, you should keep trying to achieve your objective. Why quit?"

I sighed. "What would you have me do?" I asked. "It's not as though I can undo the past. Now, I'll be lucky to get a job as a defense attorney _anywhere_ in this city…"

"Oh, really?" Olivia's voice suddenly grew a confident, almost defiant tone. "Well, Mr. Edgeworth, I believe I will accept this challenge."

"Challenge?" I frowned. "What challenge?"

She smirked, stopping again on the sidewalk. "I _will_ find you a defense attorney job here in Los Angeles."

I, too, stopped alongside her. Torn between wanting to thank her profusely or to say that she was mad for even thinking of such a thing, I forced a wan smile. "I-…I don't know what to say," I said lamely.

"I believe a 'thank you' would suffice."

I smiled in spite of my confusion. "Thank you, Ms. Athens," I said, inclining my head toward her ever so slightly. Out of habit. "I appreciate your desire to help."

How strange that just one smile could make her seem years younger. Olivia grinned an almost teasing manner. "So, when shall we meet?"

"…Meet?" Like a date?

"Yes," she said, growing almost impatient, "to start searching for a job."

Oh. Right. "…I'm afraid you've misunderstood me, Ms. Athens," I commented. "Though I am truly grateful for your offer, I can't allow you to help me."

Almost like a child, Olivia pouted slightly. "And _why_ exactly is that?"

"W-well…" Inhaling and exhaling first, I explained, "Because…we hardly know each other. I-it's improper for a stranger to ask a young lady for assistance."

She frowned. "I sense a double standard, Mr. Edgeworth. A young lady may ask someone for assistance, but no one can ask for help from her?"

"N-no, that's not what I—"

"Besides, we aren't truly strangers now, are we?"

"W-well, I suppose—"

"So it's settled. Perhaps tomorrow at the same coffee shop? Eight AM, sharp." She turned to leave. "I'll see you then. Come prepared." With a final smirk—or perhaps it was a smile—she walked away, leaving me standing alone on the sidewalk.

…_What just happened?_


	3. Chapter 3

"Olivia, may I ask you something?"

"Yes, of course."

We sat in the same corner of the same coffee shop we had first met in. Newspaper clippings listing various job offers at various defense agencies were scattered across the table, the occasional scribble in red pen around a job advertisement. It had been a week since our encounter in the park, and I had insisted that she call me Gregory; in return, she insisted that I call her Olivia. A mutual trade. A business agreement. Her dark hair was tied up that day, a pencil stuck behind her right ear.

I sighed. "You _are_ a college student, right? Don't you have work of your own?"

"Oh, yes," she replied nonchalantly, her eyes glued to a particular scrap of paper. "But I'm at the top of my class; I practically teach it."

"…" _If you practically teach it, doesn't that mean you should still be attending class?_ "But still," I continued, "I must admit, I'm still rather perplexed as to why you would help me."

She turned her eyes away from the paper, fixing them on my face. "I thought that was already made clear—I am helping you find a job."

"I-it's just…" I smiled sheepishly. "I never thought that people these days would take the time to help strangers. I mean," I returned her gaze. "You really don't know me that well." In spite of my confusion, I grinned. "What makes you so persistent?"

"…Do you not want my help?" She sounded offended. After about five minutes of trying to insist that I was truly grateful, which I was, she finally gave me a response. "You want to know why I'm helping you, Gregory?" Intertwining her fingers in a very businesslike manner, she told me, "It's because I can tell that you are an honest person."

"But how—"

"Let me finish," she said coolly, with just a trace of a smile. "I have studied people my entire life. This is part of the reason why I'm a Psychology major at the University. However, out of all of the people I have met during my time here," she paused, leaning forward intently. A stray lock of hair came undone from her ponytail, falling just next to her left eye. Her gaze, however, remained firm. "You have been the only truly honest one I have met."

The impact of her words made me fall silent, both pleasantly surprised and terribly puzzled. _If I'm the only "honest" person she's ever met…What must her home life have been like? Where did she live? What sort of relationship did she have with her parents? Is that why she's so terribly cold? _Question after question poured through my mind, so quickly and loudly that I barely heard what she said next, something along the lines of "It's easy to spot out an honest man from a crowd of dishonest one…It's in their eyes."

Somehow, Olivia always managed to say the things that I could never hope of responding to.

There was silence, though she simply continued searching through the stack of job search papers. I wondered if it ever occurred to her that what she had told me had been flattering, or perhaps it was just her blunt opinion. Shifting uncomfortably in my seat, I couldn't help but think about what she thought of me. _If she is that apt, what's to say that she hasn't made any other judgments about me? _At long last, she spoke again.

"Gregory."

"Yes?"

"Have you ever heard of Grossberg & Co. Law Offices?"

I frowned. The name sounded vaguely familiar; they weren't my first choice, but I was willing to take any opportunity I could get. "Are they hiring?"

"Yes," said Olivia, tucking that stray strand of hair back behind her ear while simultaneously taking the pencil from the other one. She underlined and circled a few words and handed the paper to me. "I think, if you are willing to work for these wages, you have a good chance of getting this job." Sliding the paper across the table, she continued, "Is this satisfactory?"

I scanned the information; the wages weren't bad, but they weren't fantastic, either. But since I was quickly running out of money, I was willing to take anything. "Yes," I nodded. "Thank you." _For so many things._

-.-.-

"Gregory?"

"Yes?"

"If you keep pacing, you'll wear a hole in the carpet."

It was true. As we waited for Marvin Grossberg's office to open—my interview was the first of the day—I had been anxiously walking back and forth in the hallway outside. It didn't help that Olivia had joined me; she only made me more nervous. She had prepped me with various sample interview questions and insisted that I plan out what to wear almost a week in advance. I wore my only suit, much to her dismay—she frowned upon its slightly frayed edges.

I stopped walking, standing in front of her. Olivia, too, had dressed for the occasion, though I felt as though she looked like the one who should be interviewed rather than me. Her thin body was clothed in a navy blue business suit, giving her the appearance of a company executive. _How is it possible that one so young could look so…authoritative? Professional? _I tried searching for the right word.

"Excuse me?" A thick voice from behind my shoulder startled me so much that I literally jumped in surprise. Slightly shaken, I slowly turned around. "Y-yes?" A squat middle-aged woman frowned up at him behind rhinestone-splattered spectacles. "Are you here for the interview?"

I looked at Olivia, who nodded avidly. "Go on," she mouthed. "Y-yes, I am."

The woman continued to frown, but said, "You've got the job. Congratulations" in a flat monotone.

That answer was too simple for me. "I thought I had to be interviewed," I insisted. "Don't you need to ask me anything?"

"You're the first person who's responded to an ad in months." She moved to unlock the door. "Mr. Grossberg doesn't need to see you. Your résumé was impressive enough."

The tone of her voice told me that she wanted me to go away, so I nodded. "Thank you very much. When do I—"

"Start? Tomorrow, 7:30 AM."

"I see. Again," I turned to leave, "Er…Thank you."

-.-.-

Olivia followed me out of the building, perfectly in sync with my own pace. "Gregory?"

"Yes?"

"You look confused. Why is that?"

"Hm?" I tried to make my expression a bit more positive, but it was already too late. She was insisting that I tell her what was wrong.

Shortening my steps, I quietly murmured, "It was just too easy."

Olivia frowned. "You mean that they didn't set up any hoops for you to jump through?" She folded her arms. "If you ask me, interviews are silly. A person's résumé should speak for itself."

"Well, there are some things that an employer can't get from words written on paper," I gently explained. "Like enthusiasm, or social skills."

"I suppose you're right," she admitted, "but still, why are you upset over not being interviewed? It's not as though it would have made a difference, right?"

"…?"

"I mean," Olivia continued, looking away from me and up at the surrounding skyscrapers, "You would have gotten the job, even if they did insist on interviewing you."

I laughed. "Oh, really? And why's that?"

"Well…" Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her fair cheeks grow a slight pink; probably because of the chilly air, right? "I mean…it's not as though they would turn down someone with your educational background. And besides, you are very…personable."

Grinning, I responded with a brief "Thanks," and we continued in silence until I decided to try making more conversation. "So…now that I've got the job, what are you going to do? I mean, you should be focusing on your Senior Thesis, right?"

Olivia's frown deepened. "Are you suggesting that I leave?"

"No, no, no! That's not what I meant at all!" _ Great, Gregory, you've managed to mess this up, too._ "What I _meant_ was, I mean…I was just wondering if we'd still be seeing each other. You know, a-as friends," I added the latter part with a nervous chuckle. To this, she turned to look at me, her large eyes examining me thoughtfully. "Friends?"

"I-er…I meant acquaintances, of course," I quickly amended my statement. _Again, stupid._

"…" Not blinking for what seemed like a very long time, Olivia seemed troubled by this answer. I stopped walking at the nearest street corner and she followed suit. "Yes?"

"Look, I don't want there to be any miscommunications here," I said in an attempt to mollify her troubled mind. "I've really enjoyed working with you this past week. However…I must imagine that you have other work to do, right? I don't want you to feel compelled to help me." _I don't want your pity. _Smiling in what I desperately hoped was a reassuring manner, I continued, "I'm sure your friends are wondering where you've been."

"…" She glanced aside. "What if I told you I didn't have friends?"

"Y-you…don't?" _Ack, a sore subject. That's just fantastic…_

"It's not that I don't have people that I spend time with," she quickly added, "but whatever a 'friend' is—someone to confide in, someone to trust, someone to believe in—I don't have one."

I was stunned for two reasons, the first being Olivia's almost naïve sense of friendship and human bonds, as though she had taken every book that she had ever read and compiled it into her meaning of friendship; the second was that she had shared this all with _me._

Clearing my throat, I watched her closely—it was my turn to do the studying. That day, at that moment, she looked years younger, the way one would typically expect a college student to look. She looked more fragile, more youthful, more human. _I guess…that means that she's serious. _"…Then…I'm assuming that we are ... _not_ friends, correct?" I asked gently. Though I knew what the answer was, I couldn't help but hope that she'd say something different.

Olivia nodded thoughtfully. "Yes…" My heart sank. "But," she continued, a small smile growing, "We are now colleagues, are we not?"

"Er…yes, I suppose so."

Now she fully grinned. "And colleagues don't just abandon other colleagues, correct?"

"Well, _yes_, but—"

"You may be smart, Gregory," she said as she pressed the crosswalk button, "But it is _you_ who has miscommunicated. It's not out of some sense of…_pity_ that I helped you. It's because I want to." Those last words she said, just as a child may enforce his or her point, had a very definitive tone, implying that those were her final thoughts on the matter. As we walked across the street and parted ways just a few steps later, I continued to watch Olivia. How boldly she walked forward, not looking back, an expression of complete determination on her face. I smiled to myself as I got into my car. No matter what, I wouldn't be able to change her mind; it appeared as though she wished to continue spending time together.

Who was I to deny her?


	4. Chapter 4

As the end of May approached, I began to hear more about Olivia's professional aspirations. I suspect it was the excitement of graduating college that waited just around the corner, or perhaps we were simply becoming friendlier. I admit, it made our coffee shop meetings much more lively, since she enjoyed discussing the future, especially mine, for some reason, but hers as well. From what I gathered, she wanted to go to graduate school, though she wasn't entirely sure what she would do when there.

"I can't decide," she said one day in early June, "whether I should go into therapy or clinical experimentation."

I recommended against therapy.

"Or maybe," she mentioned, "I could go into criminal psychology."

With these words, I couldn't help but feel slightly elated. _If she studied criminal psychology, we might end up working together…_ I shook my head. "I don't think criminal psychology is the best path for you."

A puzzled look. "Why is that?"

"Er…" Not wanting to offend her by saying that I didn't want her to deal with disturbed, even deranged people, I changed the subject, "So, do you have any other plans for after graduation?"

She gave me an inquiring look about the sudden chance in topic, but replied simply, "No." We were both silent for a minute, drinking our tea in silence. Then, Olivia continued, "But there is something about which I wanted to speak with you."

Pulling out something from her messenger bag, which she tended to keep on her person at all times, she stated, "This is for you," and handed me a small envelope. I took it cautiously, examining the writing. _To: Mr. Gregory Edgeworth_, it said. Olivia nodded at me to open it, so I meticulously opened the envelope, not wishing to tear it. There was a small card inside with elegantly scripted words:

_Dear Mr. Edgeworth,_

_You are cordially invited to Ms. Olivia Athens's graduation ceremony and post-graduation celebration._

It went on to list the date, address, etc. I smiled. "This is lovely calligraphy," I commented, looking up at her. "Did you do it yourself?" Olivia nodded quickly, her eyes brightening in light of my comment. "Yes," she said, "I decided to take up the art."

"Oh, really?" I stared back down at the lettering. "This is beautiful for a first attempt!" Blushing slightly from the boldness of my words, I carefully tucked the card back into the envelope.

"A-actually," Olivia continued, looking out a nearby window, "It took me…several tries to get it just right."

"I see…It must have taken you a very long time to make so many invitations, then," I said, smiling a bit.

Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, Olivia said, "Well…You see…I only handwrote one invitation." Her cheeks turned that delightful pink colour.

Only one invitation…? Looking back at the envelope, and to Olivia, and back again, I realized, "You mean…you did all that work…just for me?"

"Well, everyone else I know already invited themselves," she said quickly, defensively. "I did not think you would be the kind of person to do that, so I made an invitation for you."

I nodded to show my gratitude. "Thank you," I said, setting the envelope on the table, "I would be delighted to attend."

She smiled, and said that she had somewhere to go. As she walked out the door, I waved goodbye. _It's funny_, I thought, taking a sip of tea,_ how people can become friends in such a short amount of time._

-.-.-

My applause was lost in the constant cheering of the crowd as Olivia received her diploma. I saw her head turn toward the mass of people, as though looking for someone. For a moment, I had the audacity to think that it was me, but it only took me a few moments to realize that her friends and family must be in the stands, as well.

As the ceremony ended, I rushed down the stands to find her. My hurry was mostly due to wanting to greet her as soon as possible, but it was further spurred by my feeling of awkwardness in that crowd. The stands were either filled with college students or parents and family of the graduates, and though I was only a few years older than the graduates, I still felt so very out of place. It's amazing what a difference a few years can make in how you see people.

_But_, I noted, gently making my way around a large family, _that's not how I see Olivia, is it? She… _I stopped, both my thoughts and my movement. What was I trying to say? _It's not that I don't see her as younger than me…_I began walking again. _It's just that…she's more than that. More than just her number in years. I suppose what I'm trying to say is…_

"Gregory?"

Her voice. _Oh, God, her voice_. "Olivia?" Hoping to find her, I scanned the area. No sign of her, her finely sculpted face, her thin frame, her intelligent eyes…

"Gregory?" Now she sounded slightly amused. Slowly, I turned my head around. Just behind my shoulder she stood, smiling slightly at my folly. We stood side by side for a moment, in silence. The sound of the rambunctious attendees began to fade out, as all I concentrated on was Olivia, just in case she would speak to me again.

Clearing her throat softly, Olivia's eyes turned downcast. "So, you…decided to come, I see."

"O-of course," I replied quickly. "I told you I would, did I not?"

"Well…" She bit her bottom lip gently. "To be honest, I…"

"LIVIE! HEY, LIVIE!"

Olivia's expression of near embarrassment quickly changed to one of irritation and anger. Turning around, she shouted, "WHAT?" so loudly that several people looked around in alarm. It was surprising to hear such a loud utterance from her, who I always had thought of as more…quietly outspoken. However, this case was a special instance.

Two young women, whom I guessed to be around the same age as Olivia, approached us, smiling teasingly, whispering to each other. They, like Olivia, were dressed in their cap and gown. "Hey, Livie," the tall red-headed one said, smiling, taking a glance at me. "Is this that boyfriend of yours you won't stop talking about?"

At this point, I suspected that my face was growing an obvious shade of red. For a few moments, all I could do was stand there like a buffoon, not sure of what to say. _B-boyfriend? O-of course not!…But…_I risked taking a glance at Olivia, who, judging by the shade of pink her cheeks became, was equally embarrassed. _…I'm sure she doesn't think of me that way…_ However, she, unlike me, managed to state quite clearly, "This is my friend, Gregory. Say hello, Gregory," she said, nudging my elbow, almost as though I were a child.

"Er…hello," I said awkwardly, sticking a hand out. "Gregory Edgeworth."

The red-headed one looked at my hand with surprise, as if she had never seen one before. Shaking it gently, she replied, "Sarah." I smiled and turned to the other one, who was considerably shorter and had curly blonde hair framing a round face. She shook my hand as well, introducing herself as "Molly."

Sarah crossed her arms and scrutinized me from head to toe. It was rather uncomfortable, to be honest. However, when she stopped, all she asked was, "Are you sure you're not her boyfriend?"

Had I been drinking water, surely I would have done a spit-take. "Yes, I'm sure." I glanced at Olivia once more. "Friends, right?"

She looked at me solemnly. "…Yes," she finally responded. "We can be friends."

Sarah and Molly looked at one another in slight confusion, but were soon pushed aside by a large, heavyset man who appeared to be in his early fifties, followed by a petite woman who was at least a head shorter than him. I took them to be Olivia's parents.

"Ah, so here's the guy that our li'l Livie's been talking about!" said the man, brusquely taking my hand and shaking it vigorously. His slightly stubble-ridden face bore a broad smile. I thought I had a firm grip, but_ this man_…I could almost feel my carpals being crushed. "The name's Dave! Dave Athens!" he said in a loud, booming voice, "And this here's Janet," he pointed to his wife, who, without a word, thrust herself upon me with an unexpectedly bone-crunching hug. As soon as she let go, Dave continued, "Say, how about we head on to the party!"

-.-.-

"I must apologize for my parents, Gregory," Olivia murmured as I opened my car door for her. There wasn't enough room in her parent's car for everyone, so she had volunteered to ride with me. "They are a bit…abrasive."

As she delicately sat in the passenger's seat, I tried to give her a reassuring smile. I felt a bit self-conscious with her riding in my car, which was a dull shade of gray, and mildly dented on the rear left door from some minor hit and run. "They seemed very nice," I said softly, closing the door. I got into the driver's seat and started the engine, hoping to appear as cool as possible. _We could go anywhere, Olivia and I…_ I watched her carefully as she propped her elbow upon the door and rested her head on her hand. _If she wanted to, of course._ "So!" I said, a bit loudly in my nervousness. "Where are we going?"

"The Gatewater Hotel. Do you know how to get there?"

"Ah, yes." The biggest hotel in the city. How could I forget?

I pulled out of the parking lot and into the streets. Though I could still maintain my focus on my road, a corner of my mind was concerned. "Olivia?"

"Yes?"

"…I…Never mind." I was going to ask about her relationship with her parents, but I felt it was not my place. _If she has something to say to me, she'll say it. That's the kind of person she is._

-.-.-

**_A/N: Wow, I can't believe how many people are actually interested in this! Thank you all so much for reading! 3  
_**


	5. Chapter 5

I had overestimated my sense of direction, so Olivia and I arrived at the Gatewater Hotel roughly half an hour late. She expressed mild irritation at my lack of competence, but there was something in her expression that seemed amused-even relieved-that turned to disappointment when we did arrive.

I had never been inside the Gatewater Hotel before, and it was even more grandiose and magnificent than I had imagined. The carpet seemed so vibrantly colored, the walls even more so. But as I was gaping in surprise, Olivia let out a small, disappointed sigh.

"What's wrong?" I dared to inquire.

"Hm? Oh," she turned away, walking toward one of the private rooms. "It's nothing." I felt compelled to stay quiet after that, and I meekly followed her.

As we entered, the smell of people hung thickly in the air. Not in a bad way, but it was just…too heavy. Too many people for my taste. There were about thirty people there, whom I assumed to be Olivia's friends and relatives.

"Ah! Greg!" Mr. Athens's heavy arm slapped around my shoulder. "Great place, isn't it?"

"Y-yes," I said quietly, feeling greatly uncomfortable in his presence, in part by his strength, and in part by the rancid smell of his breath. How is it that someone can be drinking so early in the day? It's only…I paused to check my watch. Three in the afternoon! Though I tried to squirm out of his grip, it was all in vain.

Olivia turned her head sharply. "Father," she said, in a low, quiet voice, "Could you please let go of Gregory ?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah, right!" As soon as he let go of me, I rushed away, rubbing my shoulder tenderly. Olivia glanced at me. "Are you…alright, Gregory?"

"Oh, y-yeah, I'm fine. Er…" I looked around, hoping to find some escape from this awkward situation. "I'm…going to go get some water. Would you like me to get you a glass?" She nodded, and I left.

When I looked back, Olivia and her father's conversation had grown more heated. I tried not to eavesdrop, but I couldn't help it.

"_Come on, Liv, just give him a chance! He's a good kid!"_

"_No!" _Olivia seemed absolutely outraged. _"He's an idiot! A jerk! A lowlife—" _My heart sank. Were they talking about me?

"_You watch your mouth_,_"_ he hissed._ "Carl is a good worker, and he even got a promotion…Here, let me get him." _At that, Mr. Athens walked away. I blinked. _…Carl? _I decided to take this opportunity to find out some information.

I cautiously approached Olivia, a glass of water in my hand, outstretched. She took it from me without looking me in the eye and examined it for a moment. "…Gregory?"

"Yes?"

"…" She handed the glass back to me. "…Could you…get a straw for this drink, please?" Still no eye contact.

"Er…yes, I'm sorry, I didn't know—"

"It's fine." She flicked her bangs out of her eyes. "Just…please." She was trying to get rid of me.

Something in her voice broke my heart. I felt as though I may have been reading too much into it, but her tone…she sounded almost vulnerable. Hurt. But, deciding to comply with her wish, I left.

As I searched for a straw, I noticed Sarah and Molly standing together by the salad bar. They were looking back and forth between each other and Olivia, who had now been approached by her father and a young man. Her father's companion was long and lanky, with heavily lidded eyes and a lopsided grin. He had certainly made no attempt to dress for the occasion, wearing a grease-stained t-shirt and ripped jeans. Though he seemed harmless enough, there was something about seeing him with Olivia that made me nervous. Curious, I approached Olivia's friends.

"Hello, Ms. Sarah, Molly." I set down my glass of water, keeping Olivia's in hand. "May I ask you something?"

Sarah grinned. "Sure thing, Greg!"

Readjusting my glasses, I inquired, "Who is that young man standing by Olivia and Mr. Athens?"

"Oh, _him_?" Her expression turned into one of disgust. "That's Carl. He works at Livie's dad's auto repair shop. They've lived next to each other for years."

"Really?" I looked back at them. Olivia's expression was turning more sour by the minute. "So…would you happen to know their relationship? I-I hope it is not inappropriate to inquire—"

A mischievous smile returned to Sarah's face. "Livie's completely uninterested," she said, almost triumphantly; something in her expression told me that she really knew, as though she and Olivia were very close. "She'd never want to go out with him; especially not now…"

"Why?"

Sarah and Molly exchanged smug, all-knowing glances. I felt very out of the loop. "Well," Sarah began, "She's…um…just not interested…In _him_, at least," she added hastily. "…Yeah."

The vagueness of her answer did not register, for I was much too immersed in watching Olivia's interaction with her father and Carl. Olivia began to draw back from the two of them. Her father's words, though I could not understand them, grew loud and angry. I noted the suspicious can in his hand.

Then, there was the final straw.

Carl, who I had not previously perceived as a threat, grabbed her roughly by the shoulder, shouting something about "being his girl," and the like. Olivia clearly did not like that contact, and was struggling to break free. Yet he persisted.

I frowned. _Olivia deserves a gentleman_, I thought bitterly.

As soon as I saw her break free and run out of the room, I followed. I ran. It was a strange sensation, acting on impulse, especially for one such as myself, who prefers to be more methodical. However, that day, that moment, I did not care. I did not care that her friends gave me a strange look. I did not care that the water from the glass splashed on my suit as I ran toward them. I did not care that her father forcefully grabbed me by the arm and told me in a near-drunken slur to stay out of their business. I did not care that Carl shouted profanities at me when I told the two of them that it _was_ my business.

I did not care, because it was Olivia.

_Olivia._

-.-.-

_A/N: Ahhhh the writing here's starting to get sloppy, but I want to progress the plot some more._


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